The mid-40s are that time in a gay man's life when his major paradigm shifts from sexy to Sansabelts. But when Barry Grooms's partner of twenty years is killed on Barry's forty-fifth birthday, his world doesn't so much evolve as it does explode.<br><br>After navigating through the surreal conveyor belt of friends and family, he can't eat another casserole or swallow much more advice on what constitutes grief. Still numb, he leaves his homestore and design business in the care of others as he escapes to Key West, then New York. There he gets a thankless new job working for a crazy lady in a poncho, then has too many drinks with a narcissistic Broadway actor. Next it's a nude exercise class that redefines flop sweat, and from there he's on to a relationship with a man twenty years his junior.<br><br>Yet no matter how great the retreat from the man he used to be, life's gravity spins Barry back to the small town where he grew up for one more ironic twist that teaches him how to say goodbye with grace.

The Cool Part of His Pillow

On my way to the airport, I go somewhere else.


Not to Andy’s grave. I know the mound has settled and the grass has grown so tall that Potsy has sheared it back twice with hand clippers. I know this because he told me so in the title office. It’s the first time he has mentioned visiting Andy’s grave.


Instead, I go to where Andy died. Which really isn’t anymore. I get it. I didn’t expect the site to become my own Ghost Bike. I had heard Tarantella Demolition Contractors filed for bankruptcy, no surprise. A new developer has cleared the site and has a different vision. Proprietary Dumpsters and Bobcat VersaHANDLERs line the basic steel framework that has arisen. Signs indicate its combined office space and retail intentions for the following April and even lists a handful of future tenants.


Hayley slaps her paws on the crate ventilation slits. I release her. She dunks her snout in a plastic bowl of water.


Chapter 105